Morning 40 Federation

Morning 40 Federation     Plug In is giving away five Morning 40 Federation prize packages! Each prize pack contains an autographed copy of the band's "Ticonderoga" and a Morning 40 Federation t-shirt! Enter for your chance to win!

     So what does Ticonderoga, the new record from New Orleans' Morning 40 Federation, sound like? That's the million dollar-question isn't it? Well, here's our ten-dollar answer. Dig it:

     Let's call the time "reverse magic hour", that maybe half-hour of grace between when the darkness of the pre-dawn gives way to full blast sunshine, when the colors of the greenery shrouded shotgun houses are weirdly muted and vibrant at the same time. You're standing on a deserted street; tree roots crack the sidewalks and old cobblestones show through the blacktop. It's steaming hot already despite the early hour (the humidity hasn't dipped below 100 percent all week) and the air is alive with the tropical hum of insects. When you take a deep breath of the heavy, wet air, the odors that assault your nose -- garbage, river water, puke and urine, jasmine and honeysuckle, and the tangy odor from a coffee-roasting warehouse -- create a weirdly invigorating stench cocktail.

     The previous night's a blur. You have no idea whose place it was that you woke up at, or what happened to the girl who brought you there. You only remember coming to on a couch and nodding hello to the glassy-eyed guy watching cartoons in the living room with stoned patience. But even though you're feeling the indelicate first touches of a wicked hangover, your eyelids are sticking and your pits are stinking, you feel like a king because on your way out you managed to snag a crumpled pack of smokes and a tallboy of beer from the fridge.

     And as you make your crooked walk on home, you "accidentally" pass one of your favorite bars. It's still open, and Ernie K-Doe's "Here Come the Girls" is rocking on the jukebox. Inside, a couple of cats you know are still going strong from the night before. Your friends yell slurred greetings and before you know it, you're heading to another joint, sitting on some fool's handlebars and singing at the top of your lungs as the squares going to work give you and your pals the stink eye. Goddamn if it ain't another glorious, jacked-up dawn in New Orleans.

     That's what Ticonderoga sounds like.

Congratulations to the winners: Lance Saltzman, Kim Skokan, Ken Robinson, Linda Howard, and Rickey JR!